


John Connor's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by dramady



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-04
Updated: 2010-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-08 17:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: John sees something he really, really, really didn't want to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	John Connor's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

_ Masturbation can be defined as self-stimulation to cause sexual sensations. The use of the word masturbation usually suggests that the person is manipulating his or her genitals to the point of intense pleasure or orgasm._

John threw his arm over his eyes and groaned. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to go to school, he didn't want to try to hack Sarkissian's files and he didn't want to be the savior of humankind. He wanted to lie in bed in that half-sleep state and just... drift. All day. He didn't care. About anything. At all. Alas, _no_, he had to get up and be a "normal" kid. Dammit.

He was having a bad day and it had barely started.

With a huff of breath he pushed the covers away and sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and bracing himself on his hands. It was more than he'd thought he was capable of. Score one for him. With another burst of supreme effort, he got to his feet and started staggering toward the bathroom to shower. After that, all bets were off as to what he'd be able to accomplish, if anything at all. The threadbare carpet felt cold under his feet. The door creaked loudly as he pulled it open and the smell of pancakes made him want to barf. Just once, he wanted something other than pancakes. Waffles, even, would be a nice change of pace. The bathroom was exactly eighteen steps from his bedroom and each one felt like he was walking through quicksand, dragging him slowly down. His muscles felt like lead.

_(Orgasm refers to a period of intense excitement in which genital muscles enter in to a series of highly pleasurable contractions or movements.)_

The door was closed, but he didn't really think about it because this was the time he got up everyday and he was the One, or something, so he got the shower at the same time everyday. So he opened the door. Sure the shower was running, but he was having a bad day, remember? Later, he'd say it was one of those times where two and two just didn't connect in his head. (It happened, okay? A person couldn't be hyper-alert twenty-four hours a day, no matter what Derek said.)

He pulled his t-shirt off and let it fall to the floor, then he wriggled out of his sleeping pants. Reaching out, he pulled the curtain aside.

And from that moment on, the world would never be the same. Because, you see, nothing -- no amount of weapons training, or physical training, or even books or computer programs-- could prepare him for catching his uncle, Derek Reese, the ultimate soldier, jacking off.

_While masturbation can involve another person, most of us think of it as a very private act. According to some health care providers masturbation allows a healthy way to express and explore your sexuality and to release sexual tension without all the associated risks of sexual intercourse._

"Holy shit!!" John gasped, stumbling back and nearly falling on his naked butt onto the cold tile of the bathroom floor, instinctively reaching down to cover his own dick, even winging his hip on the counter (that'd leave a nasty bruise). He reached down for his clothes, holding them in front of himself, eyes determinedly on the floor, even as he heard the sound of the water shift as he was sure Derek was turning around to face him. Oh, god, this day had just gone from back to really incredibly terrible.

"Are you staying for the rest of the show?" He heard, the amusement clear in Derek's voice. "I mean, I don't mind, but your mom might have a coronary. Especially if you're questioning your sexuality."

"Oh my god." John didn't even have time to put his pants back on. Holding them in front of himself still, he yanked the bathroom door open and darted down the hall, slamming the bedroom door and falling back against it. Closing his eyes, all he could see was the mental picture from the shower, so he opened his eyes again, concentrating on the peeling yellow wallpaper of his far bedroom wall. God, he was going to have nightmares for a year. He looked down, though, just to be clear. No response. Thank god. Oh, god, he'd never be able to live with himself. Not that there was anything wrong with being gay.

But being gay for your uncle who was sent back from the future?

_That_ was a little twisted. No, a lot twisted. He groaned, and not in a pervy way, either. If he'd gotten hard, he'd have had to kill himself and the world would be without its savior. Yes, he was aware he was over-reacting.

_Health professionals generally agree that this private touching is a natural, normal mode of self-exploration and sexual expression._

John wasn't sure how long he stood there, leaning against the door, clutching his pajamas and wishing he'd never gotten up. Maybe he even passed out on his feet or something. But either way, the knock, when it came, scared the shit out of him and he jumped, nearly dropping his pajamas that he still held in front of him. "What?"

Derek's voice with its distinctive rasp traveled through the door (and John found himself questioning as he did, how his voice was lower than his uncle's). "You okay?"

"Yeah?" John squeaked (so much for a deeper voice). "I'm fine?"

There came a chuckle. "You sure?"

"I'm sure! Just... go away," John nearly whined, banging his head back on the door, face contorted. "I need to get ready for school. Is the shower open now? Did you clean it?"

All Derek did was laugh, and it faded away and he heard him walk away, down the hall and toward the living room. But John waited a minute longer before peeking out. When he determined the coast was clear, he slipped down the hall, closing and locking the bathroom door behind himself.

Once there, he dropped his clothes, and rubbing at his thighs, he approached the shower.

_Unfortunately, after the excitement of the moment has passed, many people find themselves filled with guilt and or shame._

The shower didn't _look_ different. It didn't even _smell_ different. (What a relief!) For all he knew, Derek didn't even finish the..the... job. But doing the equivalent of a slow-motion icky-dance, John just... he couldn't do it; he couldn't get into Derek's Jack-off Shower. Backtracking, he turned, looking under the sink and pulling out the Comet. It got sprinkled onto the shower floor.

Had he been able to get to the bleach, he would've done that instead. But this was better than nothing.

After scrubbing and rinsing, he took a quick shower and hurried through getting ready for school so he wouldn't be late and draw attention to the fact that he wasn't a _normal_ kid.

Just as he was hurrying toward the door, his backpack over his shoulder, he saw Derek sitting on the couch, an arm thrown along the back and one of those smug grins on his face. John grabbed three pancakes and headed out, eating them like a sandwich.

Just as he opened the door, he heard his uncle laugh. "Remind me to tell you about the sofa."

_Oh, god_. John groaned, his head down as he shut the door behind himself.

"Are you all right?" Cameron asked, catching up to him.

"It's just a bad day," he answered in a sigh. "A really bad day."

_The subject of masturbation was taboo years before the United States was created. All kinds of chastity belts and other devices were used to prevent masturbation, probably as far back in history as you can go._

"Derek Reese masturbates a great deal," Cameron said as they climbed into the car. "That was the subtext of his comment about the sofa." Rudely, John was reminded that she didn't sleep and canvassed the house regularly. She probably knew when each of them--

"Oh, my god," John groaned. "Just... stop. I'm ordering you to stop."

"Is this topic shameful to you? In the future--"

John held his hand up. "No. Just... no. I don't want to know. I want to get this day over with and I want to go back to bed and forget it ever happened." He slouched low in his seat as Cameron drove them.

"Derek Reese takes pride in embarrassing you."

"You think?" Rolling his eyes, John looked out the window. "Is he an ass in the future?"

"He's a very good soldier."

"Who jerks off in the shower."

"Who 'jerks off' in the shower. 'Jerks off' is a colloquialism for masturbation."

John sighed. "Yes. I guess." Was he dead yet? Why wasn't he dead from abject mortification yet?

"Are there other turns of phrase for masturbation?"

"Oh my god." He slumped lower in his seat. "I'm not telling you this."

"I don't understand your reaction," she replied. "Masturbation is a common human function. Ninety-four percent of teenage males admit to doing it at one time or another."

"Oh my god." John couldn't sink any lower, but he wanted to. "Stop. If you care about me at all, you'll stop."

"I'm programmed to simulate caring." She even reached out and patted his knee and he rolled his eyes, staring out the window and watching the scenery go by.

"Spanking the monkey," Cameron intoned, obviously having accessed some databank somewhere. "Beating the meat--"

For a brief, panic-filled moment, John contemplated jumping out of a moving vehicle. But much to his horror, it still took until "choking the chicken" to get her to shut up.

"You masturbate," she added after a long moment of blessed silence.

"I do not!" He squawked before he remembered, yet again, that she never slept.

"Tuesday, November 12, 2007, at 23:45 in your bedroom. Before that..."

Derek was right. Robots were _evil_. In the future, John rashly decided, he'd destroy them all. All of them. Every last one.

**Author's Note:**

> The italicized portions of text are quoted, vertabim from [here](http://www.coolnurse.com/masturbation.htm). The title was modified from _Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day_


End file.
